


Smile, You're On Candid Camera!

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Castiel, Bisexual Male Character, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Biphobia, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At eighteen—the age when parental guidance isn’t a binding contract to get into restricted movies, voting is legal, and those 24-hour “As Seen on TV” products are just a click away— he’s led a pretty dull existence. In all his four years of high school, he’s never come close to touching liquid courage, sugar pills, crack—both kinds. He might as well be a contestant on Biggest Loser because the only time he’s been to a party was on a sympathy invite.</p><p>Not that he has a fragile ego. Can’t lose what you never had to begin with.</p><p>So his surprise is understandable when he finds out that he’s going to be featured in the “Senior Superlative” section of his school’s yearbook.</p><p>The “Best Couple” award wasn’t a bad rap… if he knew who his significant other was.</p><p>Or the one where Castiel meets the boy the entire campus ships him with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile, You're On Candid Camera!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written in honor of Jensen & Misha’s TCA nomination. I could care less about award ceremonies, I just really want to see those dorks high-five it out on cable television.

Castiel Novak is a wallflower in every sense of the word.

At eighteen—the age when parental guidance isn’t a binding contract to get into restricted movies, voting is legal, and those 24-hour “As Seen on TV” products are just a click away— he’s led a pretty dull existence. In all his four years of high school, he’s never come close to touching liquid courage, sugar pills, crack—both kinds. He might as well be a contestant on _Biggest Loser_ because the only time he’s been to a party was on a sympathy invite.

Not that he has a fragile ego. Can’t lose what you never had to begin with.

So his surprise is understandable when he finds out that he’s going to be featured in the “Senior Superlative” section of his school’s yearbook.

“Oh c’mon, you’re kinda dreamy.”

Cas scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk as he scoffed, “Easy for you to say, you’re a lesbian.” Charlie punched her best friend in the arm. Cas pretended to take offense, even though his shoulder’s built an incredible resistance to her fist over the years.

“I beg your pardon, I’m not _blind,_ ” she emphasized.

Cas blew air through his nose. “Yeah, well, maybe we both need new prescriptions.”

“Then maybe the whole school should get a checkup, because the campus totally ships you and your new boyfriend,” she said, her face splitting into an infectious grin. “I heard from Dick who heard from Crowley that Naomi thinks you’re the shit.”

Cas was going to say “ _He’s not my boyfriend!”_ but it was no use. Cas knew it. Charlie knew it. Whether or not Lawrence High knew it was beyond him. The “Best Couple” award wasn’t a bad rap… if he knew who his significant other was.

“Alright, let’s say you know the guy—”

The ginger stopped him while he was ahead, “Oh, I do. He’s a good friend of mine.”

“You…” Cas’s blue eyes blossomed at the declaration as his mouth scrambled to catch up. “You mind sharing with the class?”

Charlie’s face scrunched before she pivoted in the direction of her house down the block. If—that was the keyword there, _if_ —he didn’t know better, Cas would have genuinely believed she was sorry for leaving him high and dry was she called “Sorry, gotta go!” and scurried away, her red hair flying behind her like a superhero cape.

Cas rolled his eyes, only this time he lied to himself when he painted himself apathetic. Truth is it was _killing_ him. Cas has never ran with the “it” crowd, and suddenly he’s Tom Cruise looking for his wingman? It had to have been a joke, a sick one at that. Someone must have it out for him, probably one of his exes—because Cas has as many enemies as he does friends—that decided to get him back for that one time he forgot an anniversary.

Still, none of his relationships ended toxic. In fact, he and Nora, one of his then-girlfriends, broke it off claiming that Cas “cared too much”. Nonetheless, he wasn’t unhappyduring their run. Relationships weren’t always the easiest, but in the end they were certainly the most gratifying, even if he did care a little too much.

It took him a couple houses to decide that he was going to get to the bottom of this… whatever it was, when a group of robust guys swarmed into his personal space. He would have noted the irony in them proudly sporting his school mascot, the yellow jackets, on their chests if he wasn’t so terrified. Nothing prepared him for the first or second punch that collided with his—shoulder? Wait.

“Cas, my man, what’s up?” The voice belonged to one Gordon Walker, Lawrence High’s varsity linebacker. He had his sweaty dark hand clamped around Cas’s neck and something on his face that Cas could have mistaken for a smile.

He narrowed his eyes as two other boys, brothers, he presumed by the looks of them, pounced on him simultaneously. “Who would’ve guessed you’d be banging the Hunter?” drawled the one with wispy blonde hair. “Christian, can you believe it?”

“I can’t believe it, Mark,” he echoed with a curt laugh. The last to feast his eyes on Boy Wonder was a name Cas knew too well.  “Hey Mike, you getting this?”

The three boys made room for Michael, the star quarterback and assbutt extraordinaire, who donned his game suit. He had a reputation for being the Big Bad around school, but he was nothing more than a biphobic swine with an inch or two of man underneath his pants. “Gentleman, see to it that Cas gets home safe.” Well that was new.

Seriously, did he miss the memo for Opposite Day?

Yeah, he was _definitely_ getting to the bottom of this.

After he was escorted home by his new entourage.

***

Cas was sitting on top of a laundry list of algebraic equations the next morning when his teacher summoned him in front of the class. "Castiel, report to the amphitheater.”

Granted he was in high school, the comment was succeeded by a chain of hoots and hollers, which only encouraged Cas to drive his mechanical pencil through his eye. He left if not to pacify his own curiosity then to escape the heat that felt like a sauna closing in around him.

Obviously this had to do with the “Hunter” guy—if that was his real name. It made Cas sound like a deer caught in the headlights. Literally.

Once there, he was met by a pair of light blue eyes. “‘s good to see you, _Chief_. Take a seat.”

“Hey, Benny,” Cas replied abstractedly. He combed up, down, and over every stand in the bleachers with tired eyes. The wind blew past him, unhurried. The only thing missing from the scene was tumbleweed. He turned back to Benny, who was setting up his equipment on the left-hand side of the field. “Are we waiting for someone, or…?”

The photo buff nearly strangled his tripod flipping the levers, but managed a gruff laugh, “Nothing fazes you, Novak,” he said, glancing up at him. “Dean should be here in a second.”

 _Dean._ Castiel processed the name forwards and backwards in his mind as a single second turned into one hundred, two hundred, and three hundred seconds. It dawned on him at four that the school’s fan favorite wasn’t going to show. If he knew what was good for his reputation, it definitely wasn’t hanging out with some sublevel fag on the football field.

Cas used the back of his hand as a sun visor just as Benny snapped the Nikon in place, looked up, and grinned with all his teeth. “Good to have ya, brother.”

 _Holy Green Eyes, Batman,_ was the first coherent thought he had when he turned around. The boy behind him was a vision from top to bottom. His hair was a perfect honey steeple, longer on the top and shorter on the sides and around his ears. A long line of stippled golden skin made an appearance underneath his Social Distortion muscle shirt and his jeans, though holed and splitting at the seams, hugged him in all the right places.

The smile he gave Benny in return should have been outlawed. He shifted his focus to Cas, who, despite his previous assumptions about him, felt a little self-conscious at the moment. “You must be Castiel,” he said in a voice that uncannily channeled Bruce Wayne.

“That must make you the infamous Hunter.”

Dean ducked his head. “So you’ve heard my nickname.”

Benny called their attention to him shortly after. “Alright, you guys obviously know why you’re here. I’ll guide you through a few different poses. Jus’ look pretty while I snap some pictures, think you can handle that?”

Dean definitely could. The first few pictures were casual side-by-sides until Benny, the genius he was, decided to have a little fun. Hand holding was surprisingly natural for both of them. Still, that didn’t stop Cas from blushing wildly at the contact. Dean turned his head, chuckling at the sight. All three boys grinned at the final product. It made for a nice candid.

Then there was shoulder resting. That was the hardest position—the tips of Cas’s ears turned a deep shade of red at the unspoken word choice—because Dean had a few inches on him. So instead, the other boy played the role of the head barer. Dean’s hair was soft against his neck, and he smelt like leather and _Axe_ body spray. It goes without saying that Cas had no trouble looking like a complete ignoramus in that shot.

The last set of photos took the cake for the most intense. Kissing Dean on the cheek sounded great in theory, but it was kind of difficult in reality when he could barely move. Dean helped him out by carding a hand through his mussy hair, pulling him toward him. Cas leaned in tentively, as if he was afraid of hurting him. Benny had to have been getting him back for that time he overheard Cas calling him a soul-sucking vampire.

By the time Cas reentered his personal space, Dean had shot his head ninety degrees so that his lips slid roughly against his. Cas reacted instantaneously, leaning into the embrace and drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. It was sloppy and it was a little bit rough—it was Castiel's life in a nutshell—but it was the best kiss he’d ever shared. They broke apart after a frenzied exchange of lips and teeth and tongue to catch their breaths.

(That picture turned out to be the best one.)

Benny cleared his throat. “Uh, that’s a wrap. Good job, guys. Real convincing.”

“Do you mind if I, uh, walk you back to class?” Dean asked after they descended the stands. His denim pockets swallowed his hands and his head was angled toward the dewy grass. Cas shook his head, cracking a smile. He was a closeted dork. “So…where are we going?”

Cas motioned toward the four hundred building before he queried, “What about you?”

“Oh, I have release time,” he explained, prompting a long silence between them. 

Considering they had a ten minute walk at best, it probably wasn’t the most opportune time to bring it up, but Cas couldn’t think straight when his mouth and other parts he’d rather not mention were sticking out like a sore thumb. “So, the school ships us.”

Dean hummed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, that seems to be the case, doesn’t it?”

“So how did you get the nickname the Hunter? Are you backwoods people?” That question had Dean near hysterics, and Cas would have taken quiet offense to his response had he not found it completely endearing. He put his whole body into it.

The green-eyed vigilante collected himself a moment later. “Nah, my friends, they pin me for someone who chases after girls, like, twenty-four seven.”

 _Or they chase you,_ he thought. “I take it from our…” He paused, searching for the proper word to justify his statement, “…rendezvous back there that you’re into guys instead?”

Dean cast him a sidelong glance with a crooked smile. “Only one.”

Cas stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you,” he explicated, running his thumb down his lower lip like he was drawing out less predatory words, “the shop”—meaning the auto shop class run by Mr. Singer, a middle-aged man with a beard fit for a Spartan—“is a stone-throw away from the Chemistry building. You’re always talking to Charlie, sometimes Garth.”

Cas stared at him, gobsmacked. Dean was crushing on him long before their nomination. The Hunter was nervous to approach _him_. “Dean, I don’t know what to say…”

“You’re in Mr. Fuller’s, right?” Cas nodded, only half-comprehending the question. Dean stood in front of said room, his dominant hand holding onto the back of his flushed neck like a life support. “I uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime… you know, away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.” He let out a nervous chuckle before turning gravely serious. “I mean, only if you wanted to, I—”

Cas shut him up with a terse kiss, grinning wide as he pulled away. “I’d love to, Dean.”

And that was how Castiel Novak, on behalf of his newly claimed boyfriend, rightfully earned the award for “Best Couple” at Lawrence High.


End file.
